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If she could allow her love for him to depend upon the immaculateness of his moral character, she did not love him as much as Cornelia, to whose affection any considerations of that kind were immaterial. What, after all, was Sophie's love but an idealization, which had, to be sure, taken Bressant as its object, but which placed no vital dependence upon him?
They received me in the most kind and cordial way, but I saw how deeply they were grieved at the altered appearance of poor Henri, and that they were evidently far more alarmed than Emilie had been, who had constantly watched him. Their house was even handsomer than that of Sophie's father, though built in the same style.
Professor Valeyon said no more on the subject of Bressant, but spoke of Cornelia's proposed trip, and the Fourth-of-July party, and Sophie's convalescence; and finally took his straw-hat from the table upon which he had placed it, and moved toward the door. "Good-by, Abbie.
In a little passion of self-reproach and mortification, she occasionally lopped off ugly shoots; but the root was still vigorous and lusty, and only grew the better for its petty pruning. Richard looked very much displeased at his brother's rudeness, and tried to make up for it by great kindness and attention. About this time I had become aware of what were Sophie's plans for Richard.
It is beyond question that the Prince de Conde was murdered. He was murdered in a wing of the chateau in which he was hemmed in on all sides by Sophie's creatures. It is impossible that Sophie was not privy, at the least, to the deed. It is not beyond the bounds of probability that she was an actual participator in the murder.
"And Sophie wears one like unto this," said my father; and he took up a circlet of shining gold that lay among the tresses. "Sophie's marriage-ring was hallowed unto her. I gave it the morning she went out from me." He uttered these words with slow reverence of voice. Why did self come up? "You gave Sophie our mother's marriage-ring," I said, "and I" "Shall wear this," said my father.
The two sisters were engaged in planning out an evening dress, and Sophie's bed was so covered with the confusion thereof, that her quiet little face, appearing above, looked odd by contrast. "I'm glad," replied she, with the simplicity and lack of ornamentation that made her words forcible; "and I'm sure Abbie will be glad, too."
Thoughts of love were animated in Otto's soul. "Intellect and heart!" exclaimed he, "must admire that which is great: you possess both these!" He seized her hand. A faint crimson passed over Sophie's cheeks. "The others are gone out!" she said; "come, let us go up to the chancel." "Up to the altar!" said Otto; "that is a bold course for one's whole life!" Sophie looked jestingly at him.
Ah! that's becoming!" She did not dare go so far as to ask them to pass Sophie's remark on to her although she burned to hear it. So she kept her eyes on her work, amusing herself by listening to the conversation. Now no one could make even an innocent remark without the others twisting it around and connecting it with the gentleman on the sidewalk.
For a minute neither spoke. Sophie lay back in her chair, eyes half closed, fingers beating a slow rat-a-tat on the chair-arm. "Have you seen Wes Thompson lately?" Carr inquired at last. "I saw him this afternoon," Sophie replied. "Did he tell you he was going overseas?" "No." Sophie's interest seemed languid, judged by her tone. "You saw him this afternoon, eh?" Carr drawled. "That's queer."
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